


The Purity in Chaos

by vodkasam



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crying, Cutting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, crying!Jared, hurt!Jensen, lots of hurt/comfort, protective!misha, suicidal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkasam/pseuds/vodkasam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen’s moving fast, and he manages to lock himself in his trailer before he’s even processing what his body is doing. His mind is still reeling when he rushes to the back to where he keeps the knives for his dartboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Purity in Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up: this is really dramatic in order to get to some intense hurt/comfort. I kind of can't believe I'm posting this. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> Also - if you are triggered by any mention of self harm or suicide, this is NOT the story for you. Please take care of yourself <3
> 
> Happy reading!

They’re sitting on couches waiting to be called to shoot the next scene, but they’re working with water effects, so it takes hours to reset after one take. That means no messing around for Jared, which is normally a challenge, but not today, not after what caught his eye while they were shooting. 

Jensen’s sleeve got snagged on a drawer knob during a mock fight, and Jared caught a glimpse of Jensen’s left bicep littered with an array of cuts. His stomach dropped. He hasn’t mentioned it, but now they’re alone, and the quiet is only making Jared dwell on it more. 

“Hey, um,” Jared says, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, and Jensen glances at him. He tries again. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” His voice is quiet, not threatening.

Jensen scrunches his eyebrows together. “What?”

Jared keeps his eyes down on his script, but he moves a hand over his own upper arm. He chances a glance up, and Jensen’s eyes are wide, fearful. “It’s fine,” Jensen says, and Jared nods. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Jared lets a moment of quiet pass. “Please try not to do it anymore,” he finally says. When he flicks his eyes back upward, he sees Jensen looking extremely stressed. “Hey,” Jared says calmly, and Jensen looks at him. “You can.”

The next words emerge desperately. “I need it.”

“No, you don’t. It’s hurting you. You’re stronger than that.” 

Something in Jared’s words bothers Jensen, because it’s like a switch has been flipped. He gets up angrily, and Jared calls after him as he leaves, but he doesn’t listen. Jensen’s moving fast, and he manages to get himself locked in his trailer before he’s even processing what his body is doing. His mind is still reeling. He rushes to the back to where he keeps the knives for his dartboard. 

“Jen, come on,” Jared’s saying, lightly rapping on the door, but Jensen can’t slow down enough to care. “I just wanna talk to you, that’s all.”

 _How could I have been so stupid?_ Jensen wonders, his embarrassment and anger bubbling over. _Cut. Cut. Cut._

“Do I need to get someone?” Jared’s asking, but Jensen’s too far gone to realize that this is a threat to him. “Come on,” Jared says, and he sounds nervous. He waits for a few seconds, but he’s already made up his mind. “Okay, I’m going. I’ll be back. Hang tight.”

 

Misha’s the first person Jared comes to. Jared grabs his arm without a word and starts pulling him back in the direction of the trailers. Misha starts to crack a joke, but one look at Jared’s face and he knows this isn’t funny. “What’s wrong?” Jared doesn’t even realize, but he hasn’t answered. “Jared,” Misha says, and Jared’s surprised by the authoritativeness that comes with it. “What is wrong?”

“Jensen,” Jared says, “he- I don’t know, I’m not supposed to tell anyone-“

“Is he safe?”

Jared doesn’t answer, and Misha breaks free of his grasp and starts jogging to the trailers. Jared follows, worrying his lip. 

“He’s hurting himself, yes?” Misha asks.

“How did you-“

“I know what it looks like. I was gonna ask him about it this week – dammit, I should have done it earlier, I _knew…_ ” 

They get to the trailer then, and Misha immediately starts knocking hard on the door. “Jensen, open the door now.” Jared’s never heard Misha talking like this until today, and frankly, it’s scaring the hell out of him. Jared had hoped he was being overdramatic or too protective or anything, but judging by Misha’s reason, Jared needs to be scared.

“Now, Jensen, I mean it.” Misha’s voice is stern but not angry, an important balance. There’s another pause. “Okay. I’ve got my phone in my hand right now,” he says, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “If you don’t come to the door, I’m going to assume something’s wrong and I’ll call 911. You have ten seconds.”

Jared is so scared that he can feel his knees rattling, and it’s because of how seriously Misha is taking this. 

Jensen yanks the door open, anger and annoyance plain on his face. “I’m fine. Happy?” He’s shockingly pale, and Jared can feel his stomach twist. Jensen starts to slam the door, but Misha shoulders his way in regardless. Misha takes Jensen around the arms and pushes him down onto the couch. Jensen tries to fight him, and Jared’s ready to counter the move with a good shove back down. Strong as Jensen is, Jared has the upper hand. 

Jensen gives up, resigned, and Misha shoves the sleeve of his shirt up. His forearms are clean because they get shown on the show, but from his upper arm to the top of his shoulder, it’s a mess of cuts of varying colors, depths, and ages. There’s a deep one ripped angrily across the back of his arm, something rushed and still bleeding. Jared’s fault. He chomps down on his lip. 

Misha kneels between Jensen’s knees and nods his head at Jared, indicating that he wants him on the couch with the other man. Jared is growing more nauseous by the second, and Jensen looks so broken that Misha feels physical pain in his chest. He knows he’s worn that look on his own face before.

Misha and Jensen make eye contact, and Misha utters one word that sends Jensen shattering. His voice is gentle, warm, concerned, when he says, “Why?”

Maybe it’s because he got caught, maybe it’s Misha’s tone of voice, maybe he’s just tired, but Jensen’s face crumples. Misha immediately reaches for him, gathering him in his arms and soothing him. Over Jensen’s head, Misha nods at Jared as if to say, _“This is good, this is what I want.”_

Jared slings a warm arm around Jensen’s lower back for comfort (his or Jensen’s, he’s not sure). Jensen quiets fairly quickly.

“Why?” Misha asks again. 

“I don’t know,” Jensen says, sniffing and running the back of his hand over his nose. 

“Yes, you do,” Misha says calmly. 

Jared’s watching the exchange with big eyes, not sure where he fits in. Probably nowhere. All of this is his fault. Still, the thing that sticks out most to him is that it’s clear Misha has done this before.

Jensen shrugs and starts to get up, but Misha gives him a light push and he falls back, defeated. “We can’t help you if you don’t –“

“I don’t need help! I won’t let you stop me.” Jensen shouts, pushing Misha’s hands off of him. Jared is frozen, scared into silence, and he feels helpless. He’s holding on to hope that Misha knows what he’s doing, because it looks like he’s about to have to talk Jen off the ledge. 

After that last thought crosses Jared’s mind, everything goes to hell. Jensen’s shoving Jared away from his side and giving Misha a good blow to the chest, hard enough that he’s knocking him backwards onto the floor. Jensen manages to get away and lock himself back into the bathroom.

“No – NO! Call 911, Jared,” Misha says. “Now.”

Jared takes his phone out of his pocket with shaking hands and presses in three numbers he never imagined he’d have to dial. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“I, my best friend, he-“ But Misha’s already taking the phone out of his hand and telling him to go talk to Jensen. “Just be outside the door, let him know we’re here. Keep talking, and don’t _stop,_ Jared. It’s important.”

A moment later, Misha gets off the phone with the emergency center and immediately calls the director, letting him know there’s an emergency with Jensen and that everything’s going to have to stop for the day. He’s not specific, but he warns them that an ambulance is coming. Jared’s too shaken up to do anything, anyway, so he’s glad to hear that call going on.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s saying, he’s just stumbling over words, and then something heavy hits the floor (Jensen?) and Jared doesn’t realize it, but he’s praying out loud that Jensen is alright and that he’ll pull through whatever it is. After what feels like an hour, Misha’s pulling him away from the door and outside so that there’s room for the people accompanying the loud sirens and the too-bright lights. 

Jared stays glued to Misha’s side as Misha talks to the people who need to know what’s going on, but he refuses to give specific information. Time ticks by and there’s a really loud noise from the trailer. It scares Jared, and he’s mortified at the tear that drops down his cheek. 

Misha’s in front of him then, walking him to a low brick wall to sit down on. “Jared, you’re shaking. Sit, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Misha puts a hand on his back as he sits down next to him. Jared swipes angrily at the tear, and Misha gives him a half smile. “They had to break the door in. I know the sound made you jump. That’s what it was. He’s gonna be okay.”

Jared raises his eyebrows, a sign of disbelief.

“Well, when I was in high school, something similar happened to me. It took a long time to get better, especially because, like Jensen, I didn’t want to admit to myself that there was even a problem. But I had a great support system, and they helped me through everything. They’re the reason I’m still here, but I’m the reason, too. At any point, I could have given up, but I made myself find something that made everything worth it.”

With a prompting look from Jared, Misha continues.

“Sometimes, yeah, I still cut a little. But I have kids now, and a beautiful wife, so I have a reason not to. They help me every day, whether they know it or not.” 

Misha sighs, and Jared follows his gaze to see Jensen on a gurney. He looks unconscious, and they’ve got an oxygen mask on him. Jared grips Misha’s hand tightly as they stand up and move closer to where they’re getting ready to load him into the ambulance. He’s under a blanket, so his forearms aren’t visible, but his shirt has been cut open and there’s gauze all over his left shoulder. 

They slam the ambulance doors shut, and suddenly, the wailing siren is back on. Jared’s nausea slams back in, the numbness gone, and he falters. Misha grips his arm, and they walk back to the wall. “I’m gonna call somebody to drive you home, okay?”

Jared nods, eyes shut. 

“You want me to call Gen?”

Jared shakes his head. Misha’s arm tightens around him, and he listens as Misha calls him a cab. They sit in silence waiting for it to arrive, everyone around them frantically buzzing about. Thankfully, they must look bad enough that no one’s approaching them with questions. Jared rests his head on Misha’s shoulder and they keep holding hands. It’s the only time this will occur without a photograph being snapped or someone laughing, because it’s human. It’s pure. 

The cab arrives, and Misha stands up first. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything, okay? You call me if you hear first.” 

Jared nods, and they embrace. 

“Take care of yourself, J.”

Jared nods again, still too shaken to speak. He shoulders his bag, which somehow appeared next to him, and climbs into the backseat. Misha watches as Jared presses himself all the way into the corner and rests his forehead against the cold glass of the window. He’s glad he gave the cab driver Jared’s address, because there’s no way anybody’s getting words out of Jared right now. 

 

An eternity later, Jared’s back at his house. He doesn’t turn on any lights as he goes, not caring enough to try to be quiet, but not wanting to be loud either. Truth be told, he’s craving the painlessness of sleep.

He reaches his room, and Gen is there, reading. She quickly puts the book onto her nightstand and looks at Jared with worried eyes. He doesn’t even bother crossing all the way to his side, he just sits down on the first part of the bed he comes to. Gen is behind him instantly, rubbing his shoulders. He turns to face her, swallowing back a sob, and she rests a hand on his cheek. When Jared shuts his eyes, a tear falls. She pulls him to her chest, but he lifts her slightly and moves to the back of the bed. A bit of movement later and she’s propped up on the pillows with Jared lying between her legs, his head on her chest. 

He starts crying then, in the security of his wife’s arms. She doesn’t say anything, just reaches under his shirt to rub the skin of his back until he calms enough to start sliding clothes off. He winds up naked, and she has the sleeves of her tank top down around her rib cage. He sucks lightly on her left breast, eyes closed, letting himself relax. It’s not sexual, it’s just… pure. It’s a strange word for the chaos of today.

Gen cards her fingers through his long hair, helping him to reign in some of the hysteria that she can still feel in the air. They stay like that for an infinity, her remaining silent while he suckles on her nipple until he feels like he can breathe again.

He gives her breast a light kiss and pulls himself up to bury his face in her shoulder. “It’s Jensen,” he says, the first words he’s been able to speak since it happened.

“They called me and they told me something happened, but they didn’t say what,” she says, careful to keep her tone neutral even with the worry gnawing inside her.

“He – will you keep this a secret? I have to tell someone.”

“Of course.”

Jared stays quiet for a while, trying to decide what to tell. He goes with something close to what Misha had been saying earlier. “He’s not okay. His mind isn’t working right.”

Gen exhales slowly, and Jared knows that she’s worked it out in her mind. “Please tell me he didn’t try to kill himself today.”

Jared’s silence confirms the answer, and he feels her breath catch in her chest. 

“And you were there?”

“I caused it,” Jared says, his voice breaking. 

“No, honey,” Gen says, her voice firm like Misha’s had been earlier. “Absolutely not. You know when people do those things, they’re not just because.” 

“Well, I started it, then,” he says, getting angry in spite of the calm environment. 

“How? Jared, that can’t be true.”

There is a long pause, and Gen reaches to turn out the lamp. A moment later, comforted by invisibility, Jared starts talking again. Neither of them really know why, but in darkness, Jared is a thousand times more open and honest. 

His voice is quieter this time, softer and more sincere. “I mean, he’d been a little off all day, and Misha said he’d been meaning to talk to him about it ‘cause I guess he went through some stuff when he was younger but, um, I just randomly started talking to him about his cuts, and-“

“His _cuts?”_ Gen hugs Jared closer to her chest and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, um. I told him he didn’t have to do that and that he should stop, and he flipped out. And that’s when it all happened.”

The phone rings, and Jared doesn’t make a move, too terrified to even think about who might be on the other line. Gen picks it up even before the second ring, desperate for answers about her friend. 

Jared closes his eyes in the darkness and tries not to listen to the scratchy voice. He’s pretty sure it’s Misha, but he doesn’t want to know what he’s saying over the line. Gen is gentle when she responds, asking how the person on the other line is doing. Then there are some words exchanged about how Jared’s taking everything, which Jared doesn’t care for, but he’s too upset to say anything. 

“Alright, I’ll tell him. Thank you so much for calling.” There’s a brief pause. “I love you too, sweetie. Good night.”

“Misha?” Jared asks tiredly as Gen puts the phone back in its dock.

“Yeah. Did you hear?”

“Just your half. Few words here and there.”

Jared’s voice sounds heavy to Gen’s ears, all trace of its usual light and excitement gone. She makes a note to spend the day with him tomorrow.

“Well… Do you want me to turn on the light?”

“No.” If she turns on the light, it won’t feel like being teenagers. It won’t feel like a secret sleepover. It will be real, and real is too much for any of them right now.

“Okay… Misha said they found a suicide note at his house. He’d been planning to do it today for weeks, I guess. Jared, it really wasn’t your fault.”

“Goddammit,” Jared gasps, and he’s getting up out of the bed and moving out the door and down the stairs. Gen calls after him, but he doesn’t stop. Even being naked and freezing isn’t enough to get his attention right now. He half-trips and nearly falls, but he makes it to the kitchen and grabs a handful of ice cubes out of the freezer and just holds them, squeezing his hands tight around them. When Gen comes to his side, her top is back on and her hair is thrown into a messy ponytail. The ice is starting to burn his hands, but it feels good right now, it feels-

“Jared, stop, _stop!”_

He lets his wife unclench his hands. The ice falls into the sink with a hard _thunk_ , and Gen pulls him into an embrace. As Jared’s knees give out, they sink down to the floor, and Jared is a crying mess again. His best friend… He was going to kill himself without saying anything about it, without even saying goodbye. 

“Is he gonna die?” Jared sobs, and when Gen doesn’t answer, Jared gags. “He can’t die! I love him!”

“I love him, too, baby, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes, there is, there’s so much, but I can’t fucking get to him to do it!” Jared takes a deep breath. “This is all my fault. All my fucking fault.”

Gen grips him tighter. “No,” she whispers, and she starts rocking him back and forth like a child, tears streaming down her own face. He pulls her closer to him, and they stay like that until he’s dizzy from the crying. 

The phone rings again, but neither of them moves to get it. They dig their fingers into each other, holding like their lives depend on it, like Jensen’s life depends on it. The phone stops and then starts again. Jared gets up this time, swallowing his emotions like water, like setting for a scene, and picks up the phone. 

His voice is absolutely wrecked from the crying, but then Misha’s in his ear and he forgets. 

“He’s gonna pull through,” Misha says, and Jared can hear the smile in his voice.

“What?”

“The doctors, they said Jensen’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna make it.”


End file.
